"Sabre's father's men?" Moria whispered.
Gavril shook his head, and Moria lifted her dagger to hurl at the first man who moved. None did. Then two more appeared beside the others. Gavril swung toward them, his sword raised, and Moria spun just as yet another two men stepped into the clearing. Big men. Rough men. Armed men.
"The traitor and his whore," one said, stepping forward. "The goddess has smiled upon us tonight."
SIX
"Stay your dagger, Keeper," Gavril murmured as Moria flexed her throwing hand.
"I can fell--"
"Only one, which will then leave you unarmed."
"You can give me your dagger, Kitsune," Moria said. "And I'll take d
own two."
"I gladly would, but the odds are still against us. Heavily against us."
Moria surveyed the bandits encircling them. She now counted eleven, possibly more behind them, lost in the night.
"Listen to your lover," the lead man called. "You cannot escape this alive. Letting us return you to the emperor is your only choice. He has not yet reinstituted executions. He may only exile you. Torture you, yes. Perhaps enough that you'll wish you were dead. Yet there is a chance of survival. Strike against us, and there is none."
He was right. Moreover, while Moria still worried what punishment the emperor might need to inflict on them for appearances' sake, that would not include execution. Not when Emperor Tatsu was the one who'd sent them here in the first place.
"Lower that dagger, whore," the bandit leader said. "We'll take your weapons."
"I would ask you not to call her that," Gavril said, his voice low.
"Oh, that's very sweet. The traitor loves his Keeper whore, and he does not appreciate hearing her maligned."
Gavril opened his mouth, but Moria whispered, "Do not argue. Just lay down your weapons. You'll not be able to keep them. Nor to fight."
They both set their blades at their feet. The bandit leader approached. He looked to be from the steppes--almost as light-skinned as Moria, with shaggy, brown hair. Not nearly as intimidating as Alvar's man--Barthol--but Moria knew better than to put much credence in appearances. She'd learned much since Edgewood.
"Bind them," he called to the others, then scooped up their weapons and examined them like a merchant eyeing new goods. Which was apt, given that Moria doubted she'd see her dagger again.
Two other men approached with ropes. Gavril and Moria held out their hands as the leader walked through the camp.
"Good horses," he said. "Take them. Oh, and what do we have here?" He lifted Moria's cloak. "This is particularly fine. I believe I'll keep this for myself."
Gavril's mouth opened in protest, but Moria stomped on his foot to silence him.
"You're in no position to demand anything, Kitsune. He'd likely cut it to shreds if you tried." She gave him a look. "And you call me the impetuous one."
"You've changed."
"I've had to," she said, and let one of the men lead her away.
The smell of sweat did not particularly bother Moria. If one engaged in physical activity, it was rarely convenient to draw a bath immediately after. So long as bathing--even with a bowl and cloth--was a regular part of one's routine, the smell rarely escalated to a stink.
In the Wastes, with no access to spare water, both she and Gavril had reeked. She'd grown accustomed to it quickly enough, and would only notice when she woke in the night, confused and unsettled, and then the smell was actually comforting. Gavril was there, and whether they were tolerating each other or barely speaking, if danger came, he'd be at her side and she'd be at his.
Gavril was there; she and Daigo were not alone; all was well.
Had someone asked exactly what she'd smelled, waking up those nights, she'd have said it was simply the stink of an unwashed body. Now, having been put in a wagon by the bandits and left to sleep, side by side again, Moria realized she recognized Gavril's scent as well as Daigo might.
And now she smelled it again, tossing in her sleep, and it tormented her with memories. Gavril in the palace court when she confronted him about his father. Gavril admitting he knew who had massacred her village. Gavril holding her at sword point before he escaped. Gavril in the dungeon. Gavril turning his back on her, telling his father he did not care what happened to her. Telling his father she was a foolish, stupid child, and leaving her in that dungeon, to the guard's torments.